What's Left
by alsarmen
Summary: When Cliff stopped short in front of Albel the captain tipped his head, narrowing his stare. Cliff shoved a hand in his pocket and tossed his glance aside, feeling slightly unnerved by the Elicoorian's actions. Probably what he wants anyways, that bastard.


**Notes:** Spoilers for the return to the Kirlsa Training Facility, during the negotiation between the party and Biwig if you made Albel your permanent party member before leaving Elicoor.

* * *

He's clutching at the remnant of his left arm, shaking, rocking, quivering because the pain is there and it shouldn't be but it is and he's in agony; he lulls his head back, eyes fluttering, squinting, squeezing shut with awful force. He thinks that if he closes them hard enough the ghostly sensation might ebb away. But it doesn't and he hisses when the burning ache shoots into his shoulder and the lingering, dull throb of old repressed memories pulses through his veins.

He releases a cornered snarl, fingers curling around the burned stump with ferocity. He almost breaks skin. It entices him. If there were any notion that he was human, that he was no different from the rest of Elicoor, he would chance the physical pain to feel it; to feel at least that much more whole.

But who is he fooling. Who would believe such a malicious lie in the face of twisted moralities himself. He is Albel the _Wicked_ for a reason. He is animal incarnate-unhinged, let loose, feral, growling. It's only becoming of him, then, that he should have to wear this metal extension. After all, that which is bizarre and regarded as unsightly by the masses surely fits this ruin captain.

In the quiet air, Albel sighs. He's tired. He's tired of shutting everyone out and yet tired of letting them in. If he could disappear to a universe where only he and his demons existed, he could perhaps sate the burning urge within his core which beckons to him; kill them all. He shakes his head violently, tossing a disheveled mop of hair from here to there. He knows he can't be content. He knows slaughtering, while satisfactory, will not cull his evident struggles.

Albel Nox is reduced to a helpless incompetent. He let enemies of the people retreat. He let the very same beat him into a corner. He let them have their laugh. He let them care for him. He let them worry. He let them accept him.

Would he be trifled with these mundane concerns sitting atop his perch in Kirlsa? Would he be plagued with the idea that someone else truly bothered themselves with feeling for and empathizing with him? What would have happened had he stayed with his miserable lot in Airyglyph?

A soft knock at the door bolted him upright and he moved to shield his missing arm.

"Yo," came a proud voice. "Anyone in there?"

_Wonderful,_ Albel grumbled.

He allowed a momentary pause and then called back. "It's unlocked."

Upon the incessant creak of the door there appeared the booming tone and shining aura of a one Cliff Fittir. "Albel," he smiled-he'd noticed. "You doin' okay in here? Need any help?"

He was trying to be casual. He'd seen the captain's injury once before and he'd tried to do the same. He'd realized that bringing unnecessary attention to a scar someone has no doubt already agonized over did more harm than good. If someone brought up the fading slash marks on his back everytime he had his shirt off frankly he'd be sick of it. And a little annoyed. So, he played the casual onlooker.

The last thing he wanted was Albel upset and hurtling things at him. Again. That prosthetic hurts attached _and_ deattached.

"What do _you_ want," Albel spat.

"Yeesh, testy," Cliff offered aside. Albel had no doubt caught his remark judging by the glare he recieved. "I was just trying to make conversation. It's been a little quiet around here. Too quiet if you ask me."

"Are the other fools not loitering around your celestial ship?"

"Hey now," and the captain expected his company to retort about his friends being called fools. "The diplo's no celestial ship. She's my own, picked her out in the scrap yard and fixed her up."

Albel blinked.

"Ya know, she's kinda like a stray."

Albel blinked again.

"...I found the ship myself and fixed 'er up. No divine business or whatever." Cliff waved a large hand around.

To Cliff's surpise, Albel nodded as if merely accepting this as fact and choosing not to argue the matter further. Cliff, well... he was damn shocked.

"You called it a stray?" The other man inquired, dabbing analeptic carefully at the burned end of his amputation. If he was applying medicine to himself in Cliff's presence instead of shooing him out he must have felt some solace in the man's company. Cliff swelled a little, elated to find Albel slowly... _painfully_ slowly accepting him.

"Yep, she's a stray-a beautiful one too. Works and flies like a charm. I'm real proud of how far she and I have gone."

At this, Albel made a noise. But it wasn't a disgruntled snort or a derisive comment, it was a quiet chuckle, bubbling in the back of his throat as Cliff stared.

"Well," the Klausian laughed, scratching behind his head. "If all i had to do to get you to liven up a little was reminisce like an old man I'd have done it sooner."

The captain had finished applying the analeptic to his burn when he finally looked up and peered curiously at Cliff. He hadn't said anything and he hadn't changed his expression, but Cliff felt moved by Albel's gaze. He walked slowly over towards the other, taking deliberate and cautious steps. He didn't want to risk advancing on the man and irritating him. Albel had kept his eyes on Cliff the entire time; he resembled a hunter watching his prey, his crimson eyes analyzing every twitch of the Klausian's body.

When Cliff stopped short in front of Albel the captain tipped his head, narrowing his stare. Cliff shoved a hand in his pocket and tossed his glance aside, feeling slightly unnerved by the Elicoorian's actions. _Probably what he wants anyways, that bastard._

"Do you want to know how this happened?" Albel's inquiry cut the silence abruptly, startling Cliff.

The Klausian rubbed at his neck, staring pointedly at the captain's eyes now. "It ain't my place to pry, Albel. I'm not gonna ask if you're not comfortable with sharing."

By the clumsy way Albel handled his claw when he ventured to equip it again, Cliff figured his words struck Albel dumbfounded.

"I didn't think you could manage such respect for another person, Fittir." Albel offered, a hint of snark in his voice.

_Fittir, not a worm or a maggot... Fittir. It was a step closer._

"Hey," cliff sounded petulant. "I respect everybody so long as they respect me."

"Then why are you showing me respect?"

"What?"

Albel stared that pensive stare; the one that told Cliff he was judging his next moves so act accordingly. So, he acted accordingly and stepped closer to Albel and bent at his hip, a finger hovering dangerously close to Albel's nose. Albel crossed his eyes to peer at the offending digit.

"What is this, Fittir." A statement rather than a question.

"It's you. You're Albel Nox. You deserve respect."

"Have you finally gone insane?"

Cliff hung his head and heaved a sigh. "You don't think you deserve anything, but _we _do. You saved us at Kirlsa, not to mention you risked your life doing it."

Albel grumbled. He'd hoped they'd forgotten that. "I couldn't let those fools take out my opponents."

"That again," Cliff shook his head. "How long are you gonna keep that charade going? You really think any of us believe you're here 'cause you still hold a grudge?"

The captain twisted a contraption on his arm and it locked into place with a discordant twinkle. He set the rest of his prosthetic down and kept his focus on it._ Albel never kept eye contact often_, Cliff mused idly.

"So you worms think I'm doing all this for some greater purpose? That I'm actually here for _you?_" He snarled.

"Sure," was Cliff's response, cool and simple. He shrugged a large shoulder and rolled it some, pulling his arm above his head in an impromptu stretch. "I mean, you did promise to take me down youself, but I always kinda took that as some obscure Elicoorian rite of passage, ya know?"

Albel quieted, choosing to stare bewildered at the Klausian. After some time he managed "I'm afraid I don't follow your foolish thought process."

"Hey, we agree on somethin'."

"Explain."

Cliff dared a brave move and took a seat next to Albel, he left the captain a gracious amount of space, as he couldn't quite gauge the man's temper right now and well, he figured since Albel always lingered far from the group it'd be wise to allow him the room he probably desired.

Regardless, the action caused Albel to go rigid and his right hand clambered to grasp his deattached claw. Cliff muttered a low_ whoa, whoa,_ in hopes it'd calm the frightened beast. But when Albel still jostled around some, right hand quivering dangerously close to the claw, Cliff reacted on instinct and grabbed the captain's wrist. He hadn't exerted any force on his grasp but he had held Albel's wrist with the firmness required to stop him and the gentleness of someone paying attention. Cliff looked pointedly at Albel, his eyes searching for a response. The other did not cast his gaze to meet those blue eyes. Cliff exhaled.

"Albel," he offered, voice low. "You asked me to explain to you, so I'm explaining."

"Let go of me," Albel snarled.

Cliff only shifted his hold on the captain's wrist so that both his hands were holding up the other's. His expression was fierce when he spoke.

"Listen to me. Just for a little, okay?"

Albel narrowed his eyes.

"Look, when I first met you, you pissed me off to hell and back. You were smug and arrogant, you looked down on everyone. I didn't understand then. I didn't understand you. Well," Cliff laughed quietly. "How could any of us? You kept to yourself and we respected that. But, I realized something... back when you saved us at Kirlsa, when I was holding you up, I noticed the fear in your eyes."

Albel visibly flinched.

"You didn't want to die, did you? After all that was said and done, you were still afraid."

"Wouldn't _anyone_ be afraid to die?"

"Sure," Cliff smiled. "But you're proud, you'd hide that, and you didn't, not when I looked at you."

"Ridiculous. Are you implying I silently pleaded for your aid or some drivel like that?" Albel glared warily at his company, ignoring the feeling of warm (_when had that fool taken his gloves off_) hands holding his wrist.

"Well... no, not really," Cliff glanced curiously at Albel, lofting a brow as he did. "But _you_ implied it."

Albel inwardly cursed. Cliff grinned.

"Did Albel Nox need to be saved from the big, scary shark peopl-_**EURHG.**_"

Somehow or another, Albel had slipped his hand out of Cliff's grasp and promptly slammed a fist into his stomach.

"Are you quite done?"

The Klausian groaned, rubbing the impact spot. There'd be a bruise there. He was just lucky Albel hadn't gotten the right mind to grab his claw and swing at him.

"Yeah, yeah," Cliff muttered. "You get it though, right? I'm not lying when I say I respect you or anything. Hell, I'd even go so far as to say I enjoy your company."

Albel remained silent. Yet, unlike the other respites, this one was comfortable and welcomed. The captain, to Cliff's surprise, sighed as if utterly defeated by the blonde's remarks.

"Yours is not completely intolerable," Albel said at last as he reached for his claw and Cliff instinctively retreated. "Relax, you moron. I'm putting it back on."

Cliff poked closer, inspecting the situation before he returned and asked if the other needed any help with it. It was a genuine question, Albel noted. No smarmy comment or underlying sarcasm.

"I suppose it would go faster with two people. Do as I say," Albel said gravely. "The wrong move can ultimately ruin this thing and seeing as I am worlds away from Greeton, I would rather my arm _not_ break today."

Cliff sniggered.

"But I will break _yours_."

Cliff coughed into a fist and nodded.

"What's the first step, captain?"

Albel restrained the desire to roll his eyes into his head. "Twist that part onto the one here," he gestured towards the metal band locked onto his left arm. Cliff did so and leaned back to marvel at his work.

"Not done," Albel said, swatting Cliff's hand away from prodding at his claw work-in-progress. "Get the plate coverings and snap them into place there."

Once more, with commendable alertness and attention to detail, Cliff managed the second task.

"Give me my hand," Albel pointed towards the turned over claw on the medical table. "That connects to this here."

Cliff desperately repressed the urge to make a _let's give him a hand _joke, however, seeing as Albel's prosthetic claw was close enough to completion to be considered a weapon again, he decided he quite liked having his internal organs still inside his body, thanks.

"Good. Now turn it left slowly until you hear a click."

"Hey, was that appraisal?"

"Fittir. Left."

"Right, right. Sorry."

He waited until he heard the click and pulled away, allowing Albel to survey his handy work.

"Not bad." Albel mused.

"Could be better?"

The Elicoorian hummed, looking closer at his claw. "Possibly. However, seeing as this is your first time handling Elicoorian equipment, I would venture to say you did 'not bad.' "

Cliff shook his head, yet he was smirking all the same. "Next time you'll have to show me how a master does it."

Albel rose a slender brow, a sly grin creeping its way onto his lips. "Next time? Do you propose there will be a next time?"

"I figured there'll be a lot of next time's. That thing needs maintenance doesn't it?"

Albel peered at the Klausian. "I suppose."

...

"Albel?"

"What?"

"Thanks."

"...What?"

"For coming with us. Well, actually for everything. For helping us on Elicoor, for saving us, y'know."

"Don't be a fool, those were all things I did for myself."

"Man, still holding that up, huh?" Cliff scratched behind his head. "I guess that's what I like about you, though."

Albel choked; had he been drinking something he'd have spit it out in the other's face.

"You okay?"

The captain got up abruptly, surveyed Cliff with a mysterious glint in his eyes, and walked briskly out of the medical ward.

Cliff blinked, now stranded on the examination bench and feeling a little lost.

_Was it... something I said?_


End file.
